


Fateful

by madelinewrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Experimental, Fluff, M/M, Witch AU, kinda soulmate esque
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 04:22:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10983297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madelinewrites/pseuds/madelinewrites
Summary: Cas and Dean are two very powerful witches, but something about their love is unusual, dangerously so. No matter what the price, they’re determined to stay together till the end, even if it means dying.





	Fateful

**Author's Note:**

> SPN Writing Challenge| deansleather vs. @bennyandthevamps
> 
> prompt:
> 
> Spn Writing Challenge: Witches  
> @dailyspnprompts September Prompt Challenge: “ Castiel and Dean are witches, each with their own specialty. Something they can’t identify is drawing them to each other, something powerful, dark, and dangerous.”  
> @angvlicmish September Destiel Fic Challenge: Taylor Swift, Song chosen: Haunted  
> pairings: Destiel  
> word count: approx~ 3860 w/ lyrics  
> tags: angst, fluff, Witch!Dean, Witch!Cas, includes Sam, very very AU, kinda soulmate esque
> 
> Summary: Cas and Dean are two very powerful witches, but something about their love is unusual, dangerously so. No matter what the price, they’re determined to stay together till the end, even if it means dying. 
> 
> A/N: Hey! So this is a very experimental and unique piece for me, so I’m really gonna need some love and feedback on this one. I may come back and edit some parts, so, as always, FEEDBACK IS LOOOOOVED!!!

_You and I walk a fragile line_

_I have known it all this time_

_But I never thought I’d live to see it break_

_It’s getting dark and it’s all too quiet_

_And I can’t trust anything now_

_And it’s coming over you like it’s all a big mistake_

Castiel. The name feels like a drug on my lips, better than any spell or trickery or magic. It brings warmth throughout my body, deep in the pit of my stomach, crawling lower and lower till I am forced to either have some alone time or think of something else. He is a heady obsession, a dangerous new-found need of mine.

Two witches. God knows that’s a dangerous equation, even without the unusual _pull_ I feel for him. Maybe he’s cast a spell on me? Unlikely, a witch who specializes in healing casting such a forced spell. We are such different people, polar opposites truly. He heals, rebuilds what’s been broken or ailed. I destroy, bulldozing an entire building to the ground with a snap of my fingers. He is kind and gentle and empathetic while I can hardly stand the presence of anyone but my brother these days. But I saw him, in that strange coat of his, and something in my chest dropped. It was like there was a string attaching us two and it was slowly constricting. He felt it too.

Now I lay next to him in bed, the sun not yet risen, Cas and I just staring at each other. We walk on thin ice, being together as we are. Two of the strongest witches there is, no one likes the idea of us uniting. Hell, I don’t really even like it. But I need him. I need him.

But I see how his amorous expression wavers, his hands shaking as they intertwine with mine. We can both feel that being together is dangerous. I move in to stop his shaking lips with a kiss.

_Oh, I’m holding my breath_

_Won’t lose you again_

_Something’s made your eyes go cold_

“It’s probably time we talk about…” Cas begins, obviously nervous. I inhale sharply.

“Yeah,” is all I can manage, my voice raspy.

“Something isn’t right. What I feel…it’s too strong, Dean.” Cas shakes his head, befuddled by his own thoughts.

“People love each other all the time, Cas,” I retort, a silent plea for us to ignore the fear. Playing dumb does little, he knows me too well.

“Not like this. And not the two most powerful witches there are.”

“So what is it then, Cas? What’re we supposed to do?” I ask, my voice rising. His remains calm.

“I can only think that we are being used, that we’re pawns in someone’s game. I just…I can’t allow that. I know you’re feeling the same too, Dean. You rarely feel these things for anyone.” He’s right, but I don’t want him to be. I remain silent, and his eyes search mine for some better answer.

“C-Cas,” I stutter, heat rushing to my face as I tighten my grip on his hand. “Don’t.”

_Come on, come on, don’t leave me like this_

_I thought I had you figured out_

_Something’s gone terribly wrong_

_You’re all I wanted_

_Come on, come on, don’t leave me like this_

_I thought I had you figured out_

_Can’t breathe whenever you’re gone_

_Can’t turn back now, I’m haunted_

“All my life, Dean, I’ve had to overcome such a stigma,” Cas expresses, closing his eyes tightly. “That I’m out to do no good, that I’m selfish and evil when all I want is to _help_. I love you, but I’m afraid we’re just objects in a much bigger game.”

At this, his eyes finally open, sad and sorrowful, but convicted. I just stare, not a word coming from my mouth. Not speechless, but too much to say, like all my thoughts are being written over top of each other, becoming illegible. Finally, Cas untangles our fingers, getting up from his warm spot to slide back on his clothes. Soon his shoes are on. And then his coat, and then he’s standing at my door frame with a final goodbye on his lips, tears streaming down his cheeks. I hadn’t realized, but tears cover my face as well.

“I think this is best. I’m…I’m sorry, Dean.”

And with that, he’s gone, a snap of his fingers and he’s back home, and I’m lying in bed with a boulder in my chest.

_Oh, I’m holding my breath_

_Won’t see you again_

_Something keeps me holding on to nothing_

“ _Dean,_ ” Sam shouts, tapping at the table in front of me. I jolt, looking up to his standing figure. My used-to-be-fluffy-but-is-now-more-like-a-rug robe wraps tightly around me as I gulp down another coffee with a shot of rum mixed in. It numbs the ache, but makes it so I don’t sleep my life away either. Though, being awake hasn’t been much more productive as of late; in fact, making the damn drinks is the most I’ve gotten up to do in the last two weeks since Cas’ goodbye. Sam has apparently noticed.

“Did you hear me?” he asks, sitting across from me, a large book in his hand. I shake my head.

“No sorry,” I mumble, running a hand through my hair.

“I asked how you were feeling?” Sam prompts. I shrug nonchalantly.

“Ah, I’m fine,” I fake flippancy as I grab my cup to make more coffee. “You know me, nothing keeps me down, especially a little breakup.”

Sam puts out his arm to stop me. “I think you’ve had enough coffee for a few _years_ , Dean. Sit down, I wanna read you something.”

I roll my eyes, but am too tired to fight. I plop down in my chair, the world spinning around me momentarily. Coffee or no coffee, two weeks of sleep only from passing out is certainly exhausting.

“What is it?” I mutter, rubbing my bloodshot eyes.

“Have you ever heard of something called ‘The Fateful Two’?” Sam asks, hunched over a thick volume. I shake my head, disinterested.

“Vodka and coke?” I retort, crossing my arms.

“No. Listen to this.” Sam clears his throat and begins reading.

“ _Since the beginning of time The Fateful Two have been a feared occurrence. Two witches unite with an uncanny bond; their souls meld into one, they begin to crave one another as an addict would their bottle of gin. The individuals are unusually powerful, but together they’re nearly unstoppable. As with charges, opposites attract; the black and white, yin and yang; this may come in many different forms, but it is often apparent. Beware of the duo you suspect to be the rarity that is The Fateful Two; their tempers become uncontrollable once united, a new instinct for power creating a malicious and dangerous force. Separation is their only weakness, though their powers will continue to grow even as individuals. Without one another you will witness them experience; stomach pains, nausea, chest pains, depression, anxiety, bodily aches, new addictions, and with extreme time, death. Mercifully, the safest and best option is death. It is said that when these two fated witches meet, that this is the beginning of the end, for this much power in the hands of anyone is dangerous. The power of the two must either be destroyed, or destroy all.”_

           My stomach drops as Sam reads, my hands clenching and unclenching. But when Sam is done, all I can do is shrug.

           “Thanks for the story time, Sammy. Does any of this have a point?”

           “Dean,” Sam exclaims, putting out his hands. “Does this not ring a bell at all for you? I mean, you’re the grouchiest person I know and yet even I’ve never seen you this bad off. It’s you and Ca-“

           I stand up before he can finish, knocking into the table slightly. “Don’t. Me and Cas are finished. And what the hell even is that book?” I tilt the book up slightly before letting it slam back down. “Witch _Lore_ , Sammy. Since when are you superstitious?”

           “I think it’s pretty uncanny Dean,” Sam sighs, leaning back in his chair. “The undeniable bond, the effects of being without each other. You’ve been a damn mess since he left, and you’ve never liked coffee this much before.”

           A fly starts buzzing around my face and I quickly zap it, the insect falling to the ground with a soft thud. Sam puts his hand out towards me, pursing his lips.

           “There’s. Nothing. Wrong. With. Me. How many times do I have to tell you that? Stop trying to play witch doctor and leave me be.”

           I stomp off to my room, slamming the door behind me, trying to lock out the words too.

* * *

I lie on my bed for the fourth day in a row, staring at the ceiling aimlessly. I hear rain pouring down outside, but can’t be bothered to open my window to hear it better. Sickness and guilt and sadness plague my body, the only thing that doesn’t hurt is to sleep, and that’s only if the nightmares don’t follow me there.

It started with me swatting my cat away, and then killing a house plant for being in my way, and then shooting down a bird who relieved himself on my car. And then there was Sam, glasses thrown, the dent in the wall from me throwing him against it with my powers. I had never been able to control another witch before, and the fact that my frustration could be taken out on Sam has put me out of commission. If I hurt one of the people closest to me, random pedestrians have no chance.

The Fateful Two. After everything I’ve been through, I never imagined something like this would be the death of me. It’s for the best that we’re not together, Cas and I. I didn’t want to believe it, but the lore is true, and I’ve worked too hard to keep this world safe to be the one who destroys it.

There’s a tapping at the door, and I manage a lifeless “Come in”. It’s probably Sam with another tray of food or maybe some miscellaneous gift or herb to try and ease my suffering. His efforts are to no avail, but he continues to try.

“Dean,” a deep voice rings through my room. It’s not the familiar tone of my brother’s, it sends shiver all up and down my spine and rushes blood to my cheeks. Cas. I jump up, eyes lurching to the doorway with hope that I heard right. I gasp at the sight of him.

His usually golden skin is a sickly pale, his trench coat drowning his skinny body. His hair has become thin and lifeless, the nails of his fingers purple. He looks damn near a corpse, and yet still I find him to be the most beautiful thing in the world. His eyes still shine as they meet mine, and he’s wrapped up in my arms before even I know what I’m doing.

“Cas,” I sigh, inhaling the scent of him. “It’s been too long.”

“Yes,” Cas agrees, nodding into my shoulder. “It definitely has.”

We stay like that for a moment, embracing each other tightly and rocking slightly. Finally, I pull back.

“There’s something I gotta tell you about,” I exhale, grabbing him by the hand. He gives a sad smile.      

“Sam told me.” He swallows, looking at our hands then back up to me. “It’s us, isn’t it?”

I clench my jaw, nodding gently. He looks away, then back at me.

“Well we can’t destroy anything without our powers,” he states, a newfound determination in his eyes. My thumb draws circles on his hand. Even the smallest contact feels revitalizing.

“Sam and I have tried that,” I reason.

“And?”

“No dice.”

He grimaces. “Powerful witches have lost their powers before. We can figure something out.”

“But if we can’t-“

“We will,” he demands.

“But if we can’t…” I repeat emphatically. He stares at me for a moment, his eyes glazing.

“Then we end it, but we’re the ones doing it. We’re not dying at the hands of anyone else but ourselves.”

I nod, giving him a flirty smile to try and lighten the mood.

“But for now,” I murmur, taking his other hand in mine and tugging him tenderly towards the bed. “We better make sure we have a healthy dose of each other before working.”

* * *

I tap Cas’ slouched back, his sleeping self drooling slightly on our work table. He jolts awake, looking around and wiping his cheek.

“Your turn to test around with some stuff,” I yawn, taking his seat as he stands. Groggily, he picks up the vial I set out, taking a sample of it and putting it under a microscope.

“What’d you put in this one?” Cas sighs.

“Written in the notebook,” I mumble, resting my eyes for a moment. He sighs and begins working towards a power zapper. All the normal ways, no matter how hard to create and how rare the ingredients, were of no use. We had gotten slightly close with the bones of a holy man and some black cat’s blood, that elixir making both of our powers significantly weaker, even together.

Cas grunts, slamming down the beaker, somehow without it breaking. Instantly, I jump up to comfort him. He leans over the table, head bent, shoulders slouched forward.

“What’s wrong?” I ask worriedly. “Did something make you sick?”

He shakes his head no.

“Then what is it?”

He looks up at me, eyes gleaming. “I’m not ready to die, Dean.”

I’m taken aback, unsure on how to comfort such a real fear.

“Cas, you’re not going to die. That’s what we’re working for, right?” I say, asking both him and myself.

“It’s been three months,” he grunts, standing up and facing me gravely. “And nothing. No working potion, only slight leads and then huge let downs. How much longer until we don’t care anymore and destroy everything? How long till it comes to a point where I’ve got to hand you a knife and watch you-“

“ _Cas_ ,” I interrupt, grabbing him roughly by the shoulders. “This isn’t going to help anything. Worrying about the potion working is taking time from finding one that does.”

He nods. “You’re right. You’re right.” He sighs. “I’m just scared, Dean. Not for me. Not even for the world anymore. But for you.”

My heart jumps, a smug, warm feeling in my chest at his words. His adoration never fails to feel heavenly.

“I’m fine, Cas. See?” I knock on my chest with my fist. “Nice and sturdy as usual. Now come on, let’s get back to working. I’ll help you.”

* * *

“It’s from Don and Maggie,” Sam says, reading the card attached to a gift box. Cas rubs my back as I wipe my mouth after every last drop of the potion I drank along with my breakfast decided to come up. Cas looks at the box warily, and I’m too nauseous to care.

“What is it?” I mumble, wiping my sweaty brow. I test my power by trying to pick up a book in the corner of the room. It flies right up. I sigh and set it back down gently.

“Not sure.” Sam sets the present down in front of us, leaning over the table to get a look too. “Probably another one of their extravagant ways of inviting us to Maggie’s art exhibit.”

Cas open the box carelessly, barely giving it much thought at all. My head shoots up as I hear a steady beeping. We all gasp as we realize what’s within the box. Blue, red, green, and yellow wires, all tangled together. A timer counting much too fast down to zero, steam already billowing out of it. It’s a bomb.

Sam quickly jumps back, Cas’ arm instinctively covers me, and my hands masterfully reach out to stop it. I turn the entirety of it into ash, soft and harmless. We’re all silent as we let our breathing settle. We look at each other, me looking at Sam guiltily for putting him into danger too, Cas gravitating closer to me, thankful for our safety. I clench my jaw, closing my eyes.

“So I take it word got out,” I gripe. Cas nods, still clearly in shock. Sam just looks sad. I look to Cas, then to Sam, feeling so much love for both of them, feeling entirely at fault for endangering them.

“Sammy,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, Dean?” Sam asks, sounding just he did so many years ago, young Sam looking up to his big brother to comfort his fearing mind.

“I think it’s time you find a place to stay at for a while.”

_You and I walk a fragile line_

_I have known it all this time_

_Never ever thought I’d see it break._

_Never thought I’d see it…_

It’s late, at least two in the morning, and there Cas and I sit, stomachs churning as we try to enjoy what could be our last few moments. It’s the first time we’ve been in our living room for a while, so we went all out; fireplace going, candles lit, delicious wine, comfortable blankets and pillows. The flicker of the fire creates an eerie vibe; one I usually find comforting, just not tonight. It flicks over Cas’ features, and I’m struck again at how beautiful he is.

           The animosity from other witches has reached its peak, the grand coven and the most esteemed witches coming to reap us of our lives. Two glasses of green liquid sit on the coffee table. Two witch killing knives sit beside them. We hear Sam’s key as he enters in, his demeanor faking hopeful, his eyes revealing sorrow.

           We hear the oncoming witches before we see them, the colliding of all their power in such close proximity causing a thunder-esque sound. Cas and I look at each other. We could easily destroy them, each and every witch coming for us, but we won’t. If it was any other witches, we would’ve done the same. Our only priority is to keep Sam out of the line of fire.

           The walls begin to shake, all the candles going out as a wind sweeps through. The room dims even further, the fireplace our only source of light. Soon, our door has been knocked down, a parade of witches entering into the room and surrounding us as we stay calmly seated on our couch, Sam sitting on a separate chair across from us.

           “Castiel and Dean Winchester,” Rowena, the powerful red head drawls in her Scottish accent. “I’m sure you’re aware why we’re all here tonight.”

           We nod.

           “Very well. Then you understand why we, as witches, find your… _advancement_ worrying? For more than us, but humanity as whole?”

           Again, we just nod, and I try to ignore the tears running down Sam’s cheeks.

           “We have conjured a meeting and have come to a verdict of what should be done to protect humanity,” she says, a slight look of smugness crossing her face. “We have decided that it is in everyone’s best interest if you nobly lay down your swords, die as heroes before you become monsters.”

           The moment has come. My chest feels constricted, and Cas and I keep our eyes steady on each other. The last potion, the final elixir that may be our last to ever make. No matter what is to happen, all I know is Cas needs to be the last thing I see in this moment. Without looking, we grab our drinks, holding them up in a silent cheer.

           “What is that? What’re they doing?” Maggie Stark whines.

           Just as the circle begins closing in around us, Cas and I chug down the drinks. The room fills with light. A boom. And then I’m falling asleep, the feeling of being in the air with Cas’ hand in mine the only thing registering.

* * *

           Distant voices. Thin mattress. Steady beeps. The feeling of plastic rubbing against my arms. All these sensations rush to me as I begin to slowly come to. Then I feel the ache, like a hangover times one thousand, all over my body. I reach to put a hand over my eyes to shield from the bright lights, but am stopped by a tug. I squint down. IVs. I begin to look around, my last few memories finally coming to me. Sam sits beside me, a relieved smile on his face.

           “Hey Dean,” he says. “How you feelin’?”

           I shake my head. “Like hell. Where am I? Where’s Cas?” The beeping gets faster.

           “He’s fine, you’re fine. You’re in a hospital Dean. Cas is in the room right beside us.”

           I mumble to myself, snapping my fingers to make the damned blinds go down. The light is still too bright. I snap my fingers again, nothing happens. I stare at my hands for a moment, then up to Sam like a kid on Christmas day.

           “I-it worked! My powers are gone!” I exclaim, laughing as I rub my hands together freely. Pain instantly plagues my body, but it is a welcome new.

           “What happened?” I ask, gingerly reaching my arms up to rub my eyes.

           “It happened so fast,” Sam sighs, running a hand through his hair. “One minute you were about to be lynched right in front of me and the next, boom. Explosion. Suddenly everyone is blown about ten feet back, you and Cas hitting the ceiling pretty hard. No one was hurt, well except you two. That’s when everyone realized what you did.”

           Sam nods reverently. “Everyone thinks you’re so brave. I don’t think any other witch in this universe would’ve done what you two did, Dean.”

           The words are meaningful, but matter less after I hear that Cas is hurt.

           “Can I see him?” I plead, knowing how fickle a normal human body can be. Sam looks out the door to the hospital hallway.

           “The nurses are pretty consumed with some emergency surgery,” he winks. “I think we could sneak you over there for a bit.” I begin to try and get up, but am suddenly in a whole other bed. Looks like Sam finally has the upper hand in powers. I look beside me, and Cas is smiling at me sleepily, a bit bruised, but still looking healthier than he has in months.

“Hello Dean,” he murmurs tenderly. He kisses my forehead. “I’m assuming we’ve changed the lore, haven’t we?”

I smile like I haven’t in too long. “Looks like it.”

“Hopefully it’s not all gone now…” he whispers, looking at me strangely, a tinge of insecurity in his voice.

“Oh, trust me, the bond’s still there.” I smile, pulling Cas closer by the collar. “You weren’t getting out that easy.”

He smiles back, and I lean in for a kiss. So we lie, broken and beaten, yet feeling the most whole that we ever have. With Cas in my arms, it seems as though there are nothing powers could do to make anything better.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is also found at: http://deansleather.tumblr.com/post/150897937753/fateful
> 
> Overall blog (feel free to follow or strike up conversation!): http://deansleather.tumblr.com/


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